


Freedom

by Greatness942



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Poetry, Suicide Attempt, Suicide Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:06:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28259685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greatness942/pseuds/Greatness942
Summary: Monika allowed herself to be brought back after the right choices and the "right" outcome. But while her friends may have found happiness, her horrific actions have only spiraled her into depression and misery. To the point where she feels the need for a permanent escape.But there is a friend with her, who knows exactly how she feels. Perhaps Sayori can help her through her inner turmoil.
Relationships: Monika & Sayori (Doki Doki Literature Club!)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> And I'm back! I typed this story out over the course of a single day. I really hope it's good. It's a bit different than my usual shtick, more a domestic hurt/comfort than a grand adventure. And it's not about RWBY, too!
> 
> Still, I hope you enjoy, and I hope it's at least decent.

It was almost hard to even write, with her shaking hands and a pit deep in her chest that seemed poised to burst through her mind. Monika stared down at the white slip of paper, and the loose handwriting, unbecoming of someone like her, only made her feel worse. “ _ Why am I alive? _ ” She thinks to herself as doubt seeps into her psyche. It didn’t help that it was a valid question. She was deleted, killed, purged from the fake world she had turned into a playground. That was it. But then the Player, the man or woman in their reality viewing her thoughts through unvoiced text, just didn’t want her to stay that way.

They reinstalled and reloaded saves to get every CG, every picture of a smile, every happy ending. Happiness she was convinced her club only erased. Then they started modding, hacking. Adding a real  _ world _ for her to come back to. She even swears they typed a last name out, but the static of her insecurities made her draw a blank. All for her.  _ Her _ . Someone who was willing to murder her fellow NPCs-her  _ friends _ , for the love and attention of someone she had never met!

Monika’s hands clenched as bitter, angry voices sounding much like her own began to chant and jeer. “ _ It’s not fair, _ ” they said, drawing Monika’s attention away from the poem she was trying to write. After finally accepting the chance to come back, the Literature Club was back in full effect. Natsuki, Yuri, and Sayori were alive and well. While their issues persisted, the club was given its intended purpose as a home of creativity and discussion. Not that it made her any happier. She never dredged her feelings out, only bottling them up.

And bottled up. Ready to burst. Until it hurt, until her tears stung her eyes and her clenched fists left the imprint of her nails in her palms. “ _ You watched her hang! _ ” the static jeered again.

She just watched. The paper slipped from her hands.

“ _ You walked past Yuri’s corpse! You  _ **_left_ ** _ her there! _ ”

She stood up from the sofa she sat on to write. She was tired. This needed to stop. This needed to  _ stop _ .

“ _ You lie to them, say nothing happened! You cowardly bitch! Because of you, they suffered! _ ”

This needed to  _ stop! _

“ _ It’s not fair! You get a second chance, but they didn’t? _ ”

Her mind was working in autopilot, her feet dragging her to the kitchen.  _ This needed to stop. _

“ _ They deserved better! _ ”

  
It wasn’t fair.

“ _ You deserve to die, not them! _ ”

Her hands, still-shaking, pulled open a drawer of cutlery.

“ _ You deserve to  _ **_fucking die!_ ** ”

She did. She grabbed a knife from the drawer, staring forward as though she didn’t even comprehend she had moved at all. At best, her mind only accepted two facts: she was tired of the pain, the anguish, and needed it to stop, and the texture of the wooden handle, the only thing grounding her, felt slightly coarse against her fingertips. “I deserve it,” she whispers to no one, except maybe her damaged mind, a mind that shouldn’t have any damage to begin with. Or the Player. Maybe this was her aim. She was their mistake.

She shouldn’t interfere in  _ their _ happiness. Not the Player’s, not the girls’. Not even the MC, and god knows if he had any mind of his own. Or his own name. She was responsible for that and so much more, and she had caused so much pain. This was the right way to end this.

Monika held back only slightly, setting the knife down on her table before grabbing another piece of paper and setting that down as well. She then went back to the living room and procured her pen. Despite being mere artwork before, she could feel the texture of the plastic just as she did the wooden handle. This didn’t make her feel any better. It was in feeling this that she felt the rest of the utter anarchy her thoughts had become.

She walked back into the kitchen with the pen and sat down to write on the paper. It was just right to leave a note, before...passing away, right? One last poem to say goodbye? She put pen to paper, and for once, her mind was distracted. Not away from this impending fate, but rather  _ by _ it. She was filled with a calm she hadn’t felt since she sat away from MC’s husk in the void back in what felt like months ago. The thought that she would finally make them happy, or that the pain would stop, kept her going as she composed her farewell.

Her penmanship was etched into the parchment, but before long, she got to the ending. Always the most difficult way to end any written work. Especially with the connotation this one would bring. But a flash of remembrance sparked through Monika, words spoken by a friend with the same thoughts. Thoughts  _ she _ passed along as far as they did. She could still remember the sound of the body swinging…

“But alas, this is but a bittersweet farewell,” she wrote eloquently, before tears began to well in her eyes as she jotted down the accursed phrases. “A poem is never really finished...it just stops moving.” It didn’t match the scheme she had written, but it was never about the poem. It was about freedom, from this life she didn’t deserve. She folded the paper, set it down, and then picked up the knife. With shaking, light breaths, she turned the blade towards her and aimed it right at her chest…

And then there was a knock at the door.

Monika’s thoughts stopped cold at the sound of a visitor. Shocked, she looked down to see just how close she was to doing it. Her shaking hands dropped the knife. She could have done it anyway, but this could have been important! Scrambling, Monika haphazardly chucked her suicide note into the first open drawer she could find, and then slammed it close. She wiped away tears from her eyes, checking her reflection in the living room TV to see how red her eyes were. With that done, she adjusted her white, sleeveless blouse from when it rode up slightly from her movements, and then opened the door with a convincing facade of her usual smile.

It was Sayori, wearing a pink shirt and blue shorts with her coral pink hair done up with a pretty red bow, just as always. Her own smile reached her eyes, which made it harder to tell if she was genuinely full of joy or if she saw fit to ignore the rainclouds, unlike how Monika did. “Heya, Monika!” she said in her own bubbly tone of voice, with a wave of her hand to greet her. 

Monika’s own thoughts disparaged her once again. “ _ You forgot, _ ” she thought to herself, “ _ she actually asked to come over and you forgot to be a good host. _ ” A part of her wanted to protest that Sayori showing up was actually a good indicator that someone  _ did _ love her and wanted to spend time with her, but that rationality was shot down by raw emotion. “Hey! Come on in, make yourself at home.”

She stepped aside to let Sayori in, and her face dazzled with amazement at the state of Monika’s home. Being used to it, she didn’t see anything too special about the leather couch, smart TV, and other expensive amenities, but to Sayori, and Natsuki and Yuri of course, it could actively be described as, to quote Natsuki especially, “one rich as fuck house!”

“Y’know, it always blows me away to see how nice this place is!” Sayori compliments, plopping herself down on said leather couch. “Mine isn’t anything too special. Seeing this is like...is like a  _ mansion _ !” Somehow, in spite of the attempt on her life that was just planned, Monika smiled widely. Leave it to the one suffering even worse than her to be her ray of sunshine. “Ooh, are these your poem ideas for Monday’s club meeting?” she asked suddenly as she looked over some of the crumpled scraps of paper.

Somehow, this actually incited a bit of alarm. From what, she didn't know, but her eyes widened anyway as Sayori picked the most recent failed attempt to read from. Her eyes scan over the words, but it’s clear that the scrawling has made some words difficult to read from the furrowing of her brow. On top of all of her serious grievances and strife, making a hard to read poem shouldn’t affect her, but Monika still takes a deep breath in and tries to shut out her own thoughts from trying to make it another point of derision, a bad poem being just another failure.

Upon opening her eyes, she sees Sayori looking at her expectedly, as though waiting for something. She must’ve said something. Monika shrugs slightly and shakes her head. “Sorry, did you say something?” she says quietly. “I kinda zoned out for a second there.”

Sayori gives a small, almost knowing, smile. She must’ve gone through the same thing when the rainclouds got in the way. “Don’t worry about it!” she chirps back. “I was just saying I liked it!”

“ _ Wait, she....what? _ ”   
  
“I mean, the handwriting was a little hard to make out, but once I did, it was really good!” She continued, unaware that Monika was stunned into silence from even that compliment. “I think I got what it was about, too, but please, tell me more about it!”

Monika nods in response and goes to sit down by Sayori, her hands on her own knees as she once again affected a grin across her own features. “I’m glad you liked it,” she responds, genuine for the first time of the appreciation. “Firstly, I am sorry about the handwriting, my blood sugar was low earlier, I guess my hand just shook.”

“Aw, don’t worry about it!” Sayori reassures. “Happens to me, sometimes!” A subtle sound of rumbling came from her direction, and sure enough, her hand patted her own belly. “Speaking of which, I’m kinda hungry. You don’t mind if I make a sandwich or something, right?”

Monika waved it off without a care. “Go ahead!” Monika told her. “I’ll keep telling you about it while you go make it!” Sayori gave a thumbs up and hopped up to head to the kitchen. Monika, still on the couch, shouted the rest to her. “I didn’t think it was that good, myself,” she tells Sayori. “It’s basically about struggling.” The poem itself evoked the imagery of ropes, bindings, and knots, so she felt it was self-explanatory. But it was a good way to start. “About feeling trapped in one’s situation.”   
  
“Sounds like something Yuri would write,” Sayori joked as she passed the threshold into the bright white kitchen. “No offense!”   
  
“None taken!” she responds back, joking just as well. She could hear her fridge opening as she spoke. “It just hit me, is all,” she explains. “That vulnerability.” The fridge closed and Sayori let out a noise of affirmation, to show she was listening. “The inspiration struck and I just couldn’t let it pass me by.” A drawer opened, to Monika’s assumption, in order for Sayori to grab a suitable utensil. “But if it’s good, I can re-write it and have it done when school starts back Monday!”

Silence followed. Sayori didn’t respond, whatever drawer she opened didn’t close. At first, Monika just thought she was focused on making the perfect food item, but when a few more seconds passed, she asked “Sayori…?” Again, silence followed. Worry and curiosity filled her as she stood up from the couch and made the short trek from the living room to the kitchen.

Once she got there, she saw Sayori, at the counter, reading what looked like another piece of paper, another poem. Immediately, Monika assumed the worst; the last poem she had written in here was just earlier, when she... she shook off the thought and tried to hope it was just a discarded writing prompt or something, only for her eyes to glance down to see the cutlery drawer wide open. Monika could feel her heart sink and her eyes widen. That wasn’t a normal poem.

It was her suicide note.

She looked back to Sayori’s face, to see the girl staring at the paper with a look of sobering, subdued horror. It was as if she just heard that someone had died over the phone; her eyes quivered in emotional disbelief as she turned to look at Monika. She had had her own bout with suicidal thoughts. Hell, Monika’s strongest memory of her before things went back to normal was her body swinging from the roof of her own bedroom. But any concern that she was making Sayori feel worse was thrown out the window as dread creeped in all around her.

“Why?” Sayori asked in a shaky whisper, obviously knowing exactly what the poem meant. And of course she would, those last phrases were from her own writings long-past. She sounded  _ crushed _ , emotionally drained and yet also full of sorrow as she stepped towards Monika, presumably to comfort her.

Monika wasn’t thinking, she  _ couldn’t  _ think. She had failed to find love, she failed her chance to die and escape the pain of her actions, and now she failed to keep it secret from the one other person in her life who didn’t need this stress. Without warning, Monika  _ bolted _ , running upstairs to her room. She could hear Sayori call for her, hear her feet as she chased after her, but she didn’t process any of it. She needed to be alone. She deserved to be alone.

If she couldn’t die like she should have when she was deleted, then she would just make sure she never hurt them again.

Monika shut the door behind her, locked it, then collapsed. She sat with her back to the door, her head in her arms and her arms pressed against her knees as she cradled herself. She let go and cried. Her own bitter tears rolling down her cheeks. She was supposed to be perfect. She was  _ designed _ to be perfect, and then she threw it all away for this. This pain and anguish, and now the fact that she was going to alienate her friend, the only person who could relate to her, was all it took to destroy the dam holding back the wave of emotion.

Was this how Sayori herself felt the night she hung herself? This constant spiral of acceptance, pain, and mental exhaustion? Was  _ this _ the utter agony she caused in her quest for the Player’s heart? If so, it just made it feel like she deserved this fate all the more.

As Monika sobs to herself, feeling her composure snap further every second, she can hear Sayori knock on the door to her bedroom. “Monika,  _ please _ , open the door!” she pleads, clearly sounding worried. What if this pushes her to the limit? Monika can see it now through the blur of her tears, how being incapable of helping Monika leads her to the same path she passed away in last go around. That thought makes her feel worse, because it feels inevitable. No one can help her, so Sayori  _ will _ spiral with her. Still, Sayori tried.  _ Bless her _ , did she try. “I wanna help you, Monika! I know what you’re going through!”

“I’m not...worth the stress,” she eventually called back, in spite of her fragile mental state. “Please, y-you’re better off leaving me…”   


“Leaving you would stress me out more than helping you would!” Sayori calls back, desperation leaking into her voice. “Even if you d-don’t...even if you don’t die when I leave, you’d still be left alone with the rainclouds trying to push you into it! I know what it’s like, I-...” Her words choke up in her throat. If the door were open, Monika could probably see tears leave  _ her _ eyes as well. “I...want to die, too,” she admits, and Monika can feel her heart break. “O-Or at least, that’s how bad it gets. But you help! All of you help, and now I need to help you, Monika! Just please let me in!”

Monika takes a deep breath in, trying to find her voice, only to find it stuck in uncontrollable sobs. “I-I don’t help you,” she tells her. “I make it worse...I knew, okay? I knew how you felt, and I did nothing! I...I failed you. I fail everyone, and it’s better if I’m gone.” Admitting these thoughts to Sayori, even ignoring the lack of context she gave about their nature, was actually calming her down a little. As if working through the tangled web of depressive wails actually cleared her head. “I don’t...want to hurt you anymore…”

Sayori knocks one more time, and then audibly tries to calm down with deep breaths, in through her nose and out her lips. “You don’t fail me,” she tells her, slowly, gently. Her voice wavering between her peppy spirit and her “true self”, the broken girl who’s probably thinking just as many dark and intrusive things as Monika herself, if not moreso. Thoughts she’s dealt with far longer. “Monika, I don’t know how much you know about me and...what’s wrong with me,” she explains. “But you do help. You, Natsuki, Yuri, Ryo…” A part of Monika’s mind, seeking levity, took that last name into consideration. MC  _ did _ have his own name now. In the rush of emotions, she had forgotten. “You’re all some of my best friends...Ryo’s been there for me for a long time, and the three of you in our club make me feel like I can reach out to new people. And it’s thanks to you.” Monika finally stopped sobbing, trying to control herself to keep listening. “Like I said, I’m not...better, not yet. There are still days where it gets bad. And I feel like you do. Like I don’t deserve to live, like all I cause is stress...but even you guys just telling me you’ll see me tomorrow, at school or out of it, is enough to keep me going, and keep me smiling a little longer.” Monika slowly stood up, trying her best to control her breathing. “You’re my friend, too, Monika. You’re smart and kind, and...and it doesn’t matter what happened, if anything did, to make you feel this way. I’ve felt like this for years...but I’m still here, and as long as I am, I want to be your sunshine.”   
  
Monika turned around and gently opened the door. Standing there was Sayori, clearly still on the verge of tears, but putting on a small smile anyway. Whether to make her feel better or out of genuine, if clouded, joy at seeing her speech work, Monika didn’t care. She could feel her emotions take her again as she hugged Sayori, pulling the slightly shorter girl towards her and feeling her warmth as she returned the embrace. The two began to cry once again, their hearts laid bare. After everything that transpired, this was the moment Monika’s thoughts changed. “ _ You do deserve this, _ ” she thought, now only in one voice, exactly her own. “ _ It’ll be okay. _ ” Deep down, she knew her friends did have their own lives, but seeing Sayori have the autonomy to save her when something new breached the status quo, was enough to break down her defences further.

After the two vented in a quiet, somber hug, Sayori calmly took her hand. “We should sit somewhere,” she told her, using the back of her hand to wipe away stray tears. “Does the sofa work? I can get us something to drink!” Her voice wasn’t chirpy like it should be, but neither of them cared. This was the real them, as far as Monika was concerned.

“Sure,” she told Sayori simply. “J-Just some water would be alright.” Sayori nodded and took them back downstairs, back to the couch. For extra comfort, Sayori passed Monika the remote. “I’ll put something fun on,” she tells her, received by a simple nod.

After flicking through channels for a bit, Sayori came back with two glasses of water, passing one to Monika before sitting down on the sofa. For the first time in a while, Monika thought, her thoughts were clear. It certainly helped that, as the show started, Sayori wrapped her arms around Monika’s shoulder and pulled her in a little closer. Monika reciprocated the action and scooched over to be close to her. “How are you feeling?”

That question was accompanied by Sayori’s embrace squeezing a little tighter, and Monika was thrilled to feel the warmth of joy beginning to run through her. It was never gone forever, but after coming back, she learned to cherish it. “My thoughts are clearer,” she responded. “I’m a bit too drained to say I’m...happy, but I don’t feel...like I’ll do something bad now.” Sayori smiled at this, obviously glad to hear that. “I can’t believe I let it get so bad...I should’ve just told you. Under better circumstances, of course.”

“Yeah, maybe, but now that I know, I’m here for you!” Sayori responded, a bit more pep in her step now that this was behind them. Of a sort. Sayori looks at her curiously for a second, before softly asking “So...what do you wanna do about the knife and the note?”

Monika looked back to her for a second, thinking. Eventually, she answered “Aha, I own the knife, so I’d actually wanna keep it. But I won't use it for a while, just in case. I won't try to hurt myself again, though. Please trust me.” 

That last reassurance earned a nod of approval from Sayori. "Don't worry, Monika, if you want me to trust you, I will! But if you...ever think about  _ that _ again, please just call me."

"I will," Monika reassures. “As for the note? I...um, I actually wanna trash it,” she admits. “Just be rid of it, just wipe that out of sight and out of mind.”   
  
“Yeah, that won’t help you recover at all,” Sayori agreed. “I’ll let you do that...but first,” she then interjects. “Speaking of recovering, Monika, maybe you should go to counseling? Get some help...I dunno if it’d work for me, this has been with me so long, but you can get help!”   
  
Monika felt another pang of guilt at Sayori’s muttering, but she managed to shake it off. “I’ll get help, but you have to get help with me,” she stipulates. “If I don’t deserve to feel this way, neither do you. We’re in this together, now, so as your friend, and your club leader, I say we go through this together.” She makes the declaration known by drinking some of her water, a gesture Sayori copies with her.

“Alright, alright, fine,” Sayori tells her, setting her water down. She removes the arm from Monika’s shoulders, self-consciously touching her index fingers together. Even after all the strife today caused, she was still her. That was the kind of strength Monika could use. “I guess we should go through it side-by-side. I really must mean a lot if you want me around for that.”

“Of course you do,” Monika reassures her, placing her head on Sayori’s shoulder to relax. Such a close gesture was reciprocated by Sayori going back to the side-hug, embracing eachother on the leather sofa. “If I deserve to be happy, so do you. So do all of our friends.” For the first time in a while, Monika felt like herself. Not  _ better _ , not yet, but more like herself. Her confidence in herself was beginning to return, which she demonstrated by moving her hand to grab her last serious attempt at a poem. “And speaking of our friends...do you think they’ll like this poem?”   
  
Sayori looks back over it, and grins. “Oh yeah, they will. Natsuki might say it’s too dreary, but she’ll still like it,” she responds. “Ooh! Hey, maybe I can help you rewrite it! And then you can help me write one of my own!” Sayori pauses, then softly and nervously chuckles. “I kinda...forgot to write one. I didn’t get out of bed until pretty late yesterday.”

“You don’t need to make an excuse for being you,” Monika tells her, softly poking Sayori in the nose for a boop. “Sounds perfectly fine with me! Okay, Sayori, first things first...I need to title this. It’s basically already done, it needs a title.”   
  
Sayori hums in thought, tapping her free hand against her chin, before snapping her fingers. “Maybe...Freedom?”   
  
“Freedom...I love it,” Monika responds happily, before leaping up and heading to the kitchen. She comes back quickly with her pen, and the pair sit down and go to rewrite and compose their poems together. Including Freedom, a poem about being bound in your struggles. Her last poem before what should have been the end of her life, now a symbol that there may be a bright light at the end of her struggles. Not in death, but in life, with the support of those who mean the most to her, in spite of her past sins.

“ _ And like that, a guiding hand reaches me. _

_ The ropes fall loose, and like that, I am truly free. _ ”


End file.
